Open your window,” Sara said, looking over her shoulder for the first time. “My God. Larry Childers, you look like shit.”“Thank you,” I replied, eyes still closed.“Were you playing possum?” Sara said, slowing down.I was hungover, shirtless, stinking like a homeless man. I could only grin and rubbed my three-day growth of beard.“Yeah. Well, I needed to find out who was kidnapping me,” I said. “I was hoping it was somebody cute.”“Do we meet your standards?” Nicky said, again turned in her seat to look at their passenger.“Geez. That you, Nicky Moore?” I said, opening one eye. “You’re one of my daughter’s dance partners.”“Was a partner,” she said sourly. Her mood killed, she turned and sat, folding her arms.“Oh, that’s right,” I muttered. “Miss Castle ran you off along with that other girl.”“Christ, Larry,” Sara said sharply. “Are you even a little bit sensitive to her feelings?”“What do you mean? Oh, yeah. I’m Nicky, sorry,” I said sincerely, despite my fractured phrasing.The girl. Red and Josh spurred their horses in different directions into some cover and jumped off. They pulled their rifles from the saddle scabbards as they dismounted. They scanned the hill tops and stands of cedars looking for the shooter. After 15 minutes they remounted and rode back to where Carl’s bodylay on the ground. Red rounded up Carl’s horse and they tied him over his saddle, they would still have to take the body to town. Red finished securing Carl’s body to the saddle and said, ‘Well he was right. His boys did take care of him.’ Once they got to town they rode to Sheriff Horton’s office. Josh explained about the stolen cattle, catching Carl, and the rifle shot that killed him. ‘Any idea who did it?’ Horton asked. ‘Didn’t see em,’ Josh replied. ‘But it was a big caliber rifle like a Hawken or a Sharps, I know the sound. There wasn’t any cover for over two hundred yards, a mite far for that kind of shootin with a Henry or Spencer.’ ‘My guess would be this guys partners shot him.
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